We'll Always Have the Beach
by GoddessofSnark
Summary: Jordan needs a vacation, away from Slokum, away from Woody while she sorts out her feelings, so she goes to the only place TO go to get away from it allthe beach and she drags Garret along to get him out of his house and into the sun.
1. I Need a Vacation

A/N This little thing came about while spending a day on the beach, and well, I kept getting images of Jordan on the beach and it took me a little bit of time to actually formulate a plot for this, although it's mostly an extended length introspective thing with a lot of fluff between the introspect. A week at the beach can do a lot to make you realize what your feelings exactly are...And I don't own Crossing Jordan, but if I did, well, let's just say I'd have a LOT of fun with it, oh, and this is post Jump-Push-Fall, so it does contain some spoilers for it...

The knock on the door startled him and he muttered a profanity as the cup of coffee in his hand sloshed over the side. He got up and wiped his hand hastily on his shirt before setting down the cup of coffee and opening the door. He had no sooner opened it than a set of energetic arms wrapped around him. "Hey Gar," the owner of the arms said, all but shoving him aside as she walked into his house, "I thought you might like some Chineese." She said setting a bag down on the table next to his coffee. She turned around to face him and frowned. "You look pale, you should go out and tan."

He smirked at her as he grabbed two plates from a cabinet along with the silverware from the drainer on the sink. "So why are you here, aside from pointing out that I'm giving Dracula a run for his money with my complexion?" He asked her as she divvied out the food in the bag.

"I just thought you might want some company." He glared at her knowing that there was much more to it than she was letting on, and she squirmed for a minute before finally talking as they sat down. "Fine, I was lonely. Nigel and Bug are working and Lily's got a date, and I've given up on Woody, every time I go to visit he kicks me out." She stared down at her plate.

"Just give him some time, he's going through a lot right now." He told her as he stole a piece of sweet and sour chicken off her plate, earning him a playful swat.

"I don't know." She said, as she poached some of his food in return. "I mean, he acted like it was nothing that I gave back his ring, but I mean, I know he was upset." He nodded, the young detective had been hurt that Jordan had flat out refused the thought of even the possibility of something bigger. "And, well, I told him I loved him when he was going into surgery, but he thinks I didn't mean it."

"Did you?" He asked her and she thought for a long moment.

"I don't know." She said again. And he could see it on her face, the mess of emotions. "I really care about him, but I don't know if I love him, not that way. I know I really like him, but I can't help but think it's in the same way that I love Nigel or Bug, not the way he wants me to love him." She got up, grabbing his plate as he resealed the containers.

"You want any of this?" he asked as he headed towards his fridge.

"No, keep it." She said, as she turned the sink on. "You know what I need?" She said as she handed him a plate to stick in the washer after a precursory rinse.

"What?" He asked as he flicked the appliance on.

"A vacation." He gave a snort of laughter.

"Sounds great."

"Let's go then!" She said somewhat enthusiastically. His eyebrows shot up.

"Did you just say 'let's go?'" He asked her pouring out a cup of coffee for her.

"C'mon, it'll be fun. You, me, a couple of Mai-Tais, you need some sun, I need a vacation, and I have a friend who's got a beach house down the Jersey Shore, it's only a couple hours drive, and he said I'm welcome to it whenever." She all but rambled on, obviously enjoying her idea. She was all but tanning just from the thought of it.

"And I wondered why you came over." He teased her.

"C'mon Gar," She was all but begging, "Nigel and Bug already have plans-Nigel is planning to go back to England and doesn't want to waste his vacation, and Bug's got some bug-hunting expedition that he's saving his days for, and Lily's already used hers, and I refuse to go alone to the beach." He thought for a moment.

"And when are you planning this little outing?"

"We can leave tomorrow. Slokum can't argue me taking my vacation, I have enough time stored to take a month off if I wanted to, I definitely have one week." He took a contemplative sip of his coffee.

"I'm probably going to regret saying this but, sure, sounds fun." She hugged him again.

"I knew I could count on you. I'll pick you up at six, it's a bit of a drive down, don't forget your swimtrunks and the sunscreen." She said as she walked towards the door. She waved as she walked away and he smiled faintly. He looked at himself in the mirror as he headed towards his closet, he was looking a little on the pale side, maybe a few days of fun in the sun would lighten his mood.


	2. Are We There Yet?

A/N Nothing's worse than long car rides, the ride up and down 95 is especially bad...and I couldn't resist putting in Hennessy's Tavern which is supposed to have AMAZING food...I keep meaning to go up there but Northvale is like the most annoying town in the state to get to...but Jill's husband is supposed to be an amazing chef, therefore I must go.

The phone rang entirely too early. He rolled over and picked up the phone. "Macy." He mumbled into it, force of habit from too many late night calls dragging him into work.

"Wake up you, I'm on my way over, ready for some fun in the sun." He all but groaned as he listened to the chipper voice on the other end. "I'll take that as bring on the vacay." He shook his head, trying to clear the sleep away.

"Yeah, I just need to get dressed." He rolled out of bed and padded over to his closet, pulling out the only pair of shorts that hadn't been packed and a tee shirt. He had no sooner pulled on the clean clothes than he heard a sharp knock on the door to announce her arrival. He grabbed his bag and opened the door. She quickly took the oversized bag and tossed it on her backseat as he followed her into the car.

"The beach awaits!" She said brightly as she put the car in gear, heading towards the highway.

"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" he asked her once they were on the way south.

"Because as even you put it, your complextion rivals Dracula's. And because you're getting sick of staying in that house, and because you knew you wanted to keep me company for a week at the beach." They were silent for a while before he spoke again.

"So how far away is this place?" He asked her as he saw the signs pronouncing that they were none to far from the state border.

"The Jersey shore, he didn't say exactly how far. All I know is take 95 down to the Garden State Parkway south, and follow that to Rote 34, pull off there and the place is on the corner of Boston and New Jersey avenue. He said if I get lost follow the signs to Shore Points." He rolled his eyes.

"You don't even have a map?" He asked her and she shook her head.

"Who needs a map? Rob said the signs were really easy to follow. We'll be there in no time, look, we're already out of Massachussetts." She said pointing out the sign that proclaimed that they had already gone through the state. He leaned his head against the window and felt the sleep roll over him.

The bright sun woke him up some time later. He squinted and shifted, stifling a yawn as he looked out the window. "Are we there yet?" He asked mockingly. She laughed.

"Morning sleepyhead." She said as he stretched. "We're getting close, we're in New York. Care to detour to Manhattan?" She asked as the sign said that the little island was the next right.

"No thanks, what's there to do there that you can't do in Boston?" He asked her and she shrugged.

"Go insult Yankee's fans?" She offered. "Shop? Go to Times Square? Try to get on MTV? Stop by the NBC Building?"

"How about we keep going." He suggested, looking at the clock, noticing that they had been on the road a good four hours already.

"Hmm, if you want to stop for lunch, there's a place that he suggested to me that's a little out of our way in a town called Northvale and that if we're feeling adventurous to try and find it, it's a tavern that's supposed to have the best food called Hennessy's."

"Let's just get there." He said, and she shrugged before stifiling a yawn. "You want me to drive?" He asked her.

"Nope, I'm good. Besides, you don't know where you're going."

"Neither do you." He countered and she grinned sheepishly.

"Touche. But I'm fine, Just been up since four AM packing." He smirked.

"I thought the way you were talking last night that you were already packed and ready to go." She quickly changed subjects when they passed the sign that proclaimed they were in New Jersey.

"Here we are, the home stretch. Just keep going until we get on the Garden State Parkway going south-" She started.

"You mean the turn we just missed?" He said as they passed by the green sign that said that turn as well as the exit itself. She muttered a curse before seeing a sign for the next exit that read Shore Points.

"This might work." She said pulling off and he rolled his eyes, reaching for the radio.

"I think you need another station." He said as static filled the car.

"Put on what you want." She told him, and he shook his head.

"I'm going back to sleep, wake me when we get to golden sands." He said, leaning back and closing his eyes again.


	3. On Golden Sands

A/N-Right, chapter three, enjoy. And I honestly don't know if they allow you to swim once the lifeguards go off duty, but hey, it's called artistic license, it works.

"Hey, Sleeping Ugly, get out, we're here." He woke with a start as she gently shoved him awake. They were parked in the driveway of a small blue beach bungalow. He got out to smell the sea spray and the crisp clean air of the beach. "What a cute little place." She gushed as she opened the front door.

"Little." He repeated as he walked inside to find the place to be a thousand square feet at the most.

"ll, at least it's got two beds." She said dropping her bag in the bedroom. The two beds were, in fact, one very comfortable looking queen size bed and a small cot. "We can switch off, I get the bed one night, you get it the next. I get first dibs cause you slept on the way down." She said with a smirk. "Now, I'm gonna go change and hit the beach, you gonna join me?" He shrugged as she disappeared into the bathroom.

It took him a matter of seconds to pull out a pair of trunks and change into them, and he used the extra time while he waited for her to look around the small place. The living room was quaint with simply a couch and a cocktail table set before an entertainment center with a TV and Playstation that was obviously meant to be used more as a DVD player than gaming console. He poked through the closets, one of them being devoted solely to towels and two sets of sheets-one for the cot one for the bed.

He poked through the kitchen and found the cabinets to be barely stocked with some of the basic dried goods that could withstand being there for months on end. In a back closet that was obviously intended to be a pantry, but was not used as such, he found two surfboards and a body board, ideas of fun in the sun. He had no sooner finished looking around than she emerged from the bathroom, dressed only in a bikini and a matching sarong.

He felt his eyes trailing her body as much as he tried to fight it, he couldn't help it. She simply smirked and grabbed a towel from him as he pulled two out of the closet. "Let's hit the beach." She said with a laugh in her voice. She was so lighthearted, he hadn't seen her like this in a long time, she had seemed so troubled recently, she finally was happy.

As they walked down the short path to the beach, he found his eyes constantly locked onto her, and no matter what he tried to think of he found himself still staring at her thinking things that he hadn't thought in far too long. She gave him a wry smirk, the mimic of the one she had given him in the house. "You act like you've never seen a girl in a bikini before." She told him, and he felt himself flush slightly, and she laughed, not caring in the least that he was all but staring lecherously at her.

As their feet hit sand, she quickly removed the sandals she was wearing and ran down the beach, looking for an opening. As soon as she found it, she dropped her shoes and towel and then pulled off the sarong in a fluid motion as she ran down to the ocean. He followed her at a much slower pace, enjoying the warm summer sun on him, enjoying the way it baked his shoulders and back as he removed his shirt.

He waded in up to his waist, and stood there watching her as the waves rocked him back and forth. She looked so young, so vibrant out there as she dove through them expertly. She turned back to him and floated. "Are you going to come out here or am I going to have to drag you?" She shouted out to the shore and he shook his head.

"Just try." He called back, grinning. He watched as she allowed the salt water to keep her afloat, easily maneuvering through the waves.

"C'mon Garret, just come out here!" She shouted and he took a few steps forward, staying when the water came up to his chest.

"I'm fine." he called back, bending his knees, allowing himself to gingerly float, with the knowledge that his feet had solid sand beneath them.

"Garret!" She called again, and he just ignored her, he pretended to be engrossed in what the banner plane flying by was advertising. His eyes snapped back to her when he saw her suddenly jerk to the side. He looked around and found that they were the only ones left, the lifeguards had long since proclaimed swim at your own risk, and he watched as she jerked to the other side.

He started moving forward, feeling the water up to his neck and his feet starting to loose their footing, but when he saw her head dip below the water line he dove through the next wave and swam out, his body cutting easily through the water. He searched for where she had been last when he felt a hard weight against his back and he swam for the surface to hear a peal of laughter.

"Someone needs to see Jaws again, I told you I'd drag you out here." She was joking, but all he could feel was the pure blind fear as he headed towards the shore. "Garret?" She questioned as he found himself all but blocking her out, the only thing he wanted was to be back on dry land. "Garret, are you ok?" She asked him, and he nodded, even though he wasn't. He felt his chest getting tight, and his breath was coming in short and shallow.

Once his feet hit the sand, the fear subsided, but it wasn't until he was safely on the dry sand that he finally relaxed. He grabbed his towel and dried off as he walked back to the bungalow trying to catch his breath. "Look, Gar, I'm sorry-" She started, but he blew her off as he sat down on the couch. After a minute he finally turned to her.

"It's alright, it's nothing really." She glared at him, but was not nearly as adept at the art as he was, and he barely quavered under her stare.


	4. the Crazy Thing About Love

A/N just a little bit of fluff, with some deep moments involved. Enjoy.

He was laughing, he felt himself riding high, the water barely lapping against his ankles as he rocked back and forth with the motion of the waves. The waves that were getting larger slowly as the tide took its time rolling in, and he laughed as he glided over each one with ease.

He saw the wave approaching, far bigger than the other ones. But he thought it would break long before it reached them, so many of the giant waves broke before he had a chance to dive over them. He never expected it to break as it bore down on him, he never expected to feel the sudden rush of water drag him down.

He felt the strong hands torn from his ankles, his strong perch out from underneath him, and he plunged into the cold water. He opened his eyes and felt the sting of the saltwater and promptly closed them, and he kicked for what he thought was the surface.

He tried to gasp for breath but found only water as he swam upwards, further and further but the surface was nowhere to be found. He kept crashing into the waves, the undertow pulling him down, away from the precious air as he kept trying to breathe but found only saltwater.

He opened his eyes again to the sting and swam for the surface, the light that was growing brighter and brighter, kept trying to make it, and never quite getting there, as his vision slowly turned to red and then suddenly black and he relaxed in the water, giving in to it, he heard someone calling his name in the distance but he gave up fighting, he didn't have it left in him.

He awoke with a cold sweat with a warm hand on his forehead. "Garret?" She asked as she gently held on to him. He shook the dream out of his head. "You alright?" She asked him, and he nodded.

"I'm fine, just a nightmare." He told her, and she nodded.

"you sure?" she asked with a concerned glare. He smiled at her.

"Perfectly OK." he replied, and rolled over. "Just go back to sleep." She smiled at him, and crossed back to the bed, leaving him alone on the cot.

He waited until he heard the sounds of soft snoring echoed through the room before he gingerly padded outside, not wanting to disturb her, and walked down the sand until he hit a hill a little ways down the beach.

He sat down, staring off into space, staring out over the ocean. He saw the first pink rays of the sunrise streaming over the ocean, making their slow progress towards him. He sensed her before he saw her, he felt her presence before she sat down next to him, almost on top of him.

He was far too aware of her presence, but he acted as if it didn't matter how close she was to him."I didn't scare you that badly out there, did I?" She asked, truly sorry. He shook his head.

"No, it wasn't you." He told her.

"Then what was it-I saw you swimming, it's not like you can't." He shook his head again.

"I was a lifeguard in high school, I should hope I can swim." He said smiling slightly.

"Then what's wrong?" She asked, leaning her head against his shoulder. "You haven't gone back to sleep, have you?"

"No." He admitted guiltily. "But it's nothing."She took her head off of his shoulder to glare at him. He missed the feeling of it there.

"You and I both know that's not true." She pointed out to him, and she was right. But that didn't mean he was going to give in and tell her what was wrong. "Garret, you're turning into me." She said exasperated. "You should spend less time around me. Nightmares, no sleep, and avoiding talking about your problems." He grinned sheepishly. Spending less time around her was something he wanted to avoid.

He felt her laugh silently against him as she returned her head to his shoulder. "It's nothing." He repeated, staring off at the encroaching dawn.

"That's what I said too." She told him, and he leaned his head on top of hers.

"So now you're going to psycho analyze me?" He teased.

"Well, I'm sure Dr. Styles would love a nice little working vacation." He chuckled and gave her a playful smack.

"Fine, but you go first. Why are you really here?" He asked her and she shrugged, almost elbowing him in the jaw.

"I needed to get away." She said after a long pause of staring out into the ocean.

"From what?"

"From Slokum, from Woody, from everything." Her voice was soft, almost sad. "I needed to think, to figure out where I am, what it is I want, what it is I'm going through. Now what about you? What's with the panic attack and the nightmare?"

He shrugged. "I haven't been to the beach in ages." He said simply. "Nevermind the ocean."

"So what does that have to do with anything?" She asked him gently.

"I was little, six or seven, we had gone to the beach as a family, before my dad left, and i was in the ocean with him, I was sitting on his shoulders and we were jumping the waves. The tide was rolling in, and this huge wave came out of nowhere, it dragged me underwater, and the last thing I remember was just the awful taste of seawater and the world going black. Next thing I knew I was waking up on the beach." He felt her arm wrap around him, comforting him.

"So that's why you don't swim in the ocean?" She asked, and he nodded.

"Yeah. So what's going on with you and Woody? He questioned, eager to get the topic off of himself.

"I don't know, and that's the problem." The sun had risen now, baking them with it's soft glow. "I don't know if I meant what I said, I thought I did, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder if it's true." He smiled, but he didn't know if it was from the sheer thought that maybe she wasn't as involved with Woody as he thought, or if it was from his own reminisce about love.

"That's the crazy thing about love." He told her. "It defies all logical thought." He felt her smile as they sat there, watching the waves roll in.


	5. Boardwalk Games

A/N-been a long time since I hit the point pleasant boardwalk, so forgive me if it's a little off-again, I claim artistic license. Enjoy. And for all of you who read and don't review-I know you're reading it. Or at least clicking through it...

"Let's hit the boardwalk." He smiled as she emerged from the bedroom, hair still damp from her shower. He flicked off the TV, after scanning through all the channels at least twice, coming up with nothing good to watch.

"The boardwalk?" He questioned and she grinned.

"Yeah." She said enthusiastically. "The best part of the beach." She headed towards the door opening and walking out, leaving him to follow along behind her. "Games and stands and food and cheap gifts and rides, it's all so much fun." He smirked at the careless abandon she had. "You coming?" She asked as he took his time following her down the street to the splintered wooden path.

She looked around, taking in all the sights and sounds. It was an amazing sight, with zillions of flashing lights and too many sounds, but it was a pleasant over stimulation. "Where to begin?" She pondered looking around, and his stomach gave a low rumble.

"How about with lunch?" She laughed and looked around before spotting a small hot dog vendor with a cart. They quickly ordered two and sat down on a nearby bench, watching the ocean. "This is what I love about this place compared to Boston." She said as she took a large bite out of the dog.

"Fenway Park dogs beat these." He countered, biting into his. It was good, but not as good as the official frank of the Red Sox.

"Not the hot dog, this." She gestured out over the sand. "The warmth, the happy people the sun, the ocean that you can swim in, all these flashing lights, tikki bars." He chuckled, almost choking on his frank when he saw a man giving a gigantic stuffed Sylvester on his back.

"Now that's a prize." He commented, pointing at the man and the stuffed toy.

"Quarter pitch." The man replied, pointing at a small booth with the plates set up.

"I Twat I taw a puddy tat." She mocked after the man had walked by and he grinned, finished the hot dog with one last bite. She lept up and all but ran down the boardwalk until she reached the quarter pitch. She quickly traded in a dollar for four quarters and tossed each one out, two missing entirely, two skidding off the plates.

He smirked and changed a dollar bill, and found three quarters to go sliding off the plates, and he started at the rows with a determined look. "Watch and learn young padawan." He joked, tossing the last one out with a certain nonchalant air, and she watched as it skidded to a stop halfway off the edge of the plate that it had landed on.

"How do you do that?" She asked him and he shrugged.

"A magician never tells his secrets." She shook her head. "So, pick one of those." He told her, looking over the selection of looney tunes characters.

"Why do I pick?" She asked him. "You won."

"And if you can come up with something for me to do with a giant 4 foot tall stuffed animal, I would gladly take it, but I think you have more use for it."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It'll keep the stuffed tiger you try to hide in your closet company." She swatted him.

"How did you find out about that?"

"You sent me in there to look for something once, remember?" She wracked her brain in thought before nodding.

"Fine." She looked over the selection. "How about Daffy?" She said, and the attendant pulled down one of the stuffed toys and handed it to him, and he immediately handed it off to her. "You're the one that won it, you carry it."

"And I gave it to you, therefore it's yours." She laughed.

"But I'm telling you to carry it for me cause you're just so nice like that." He smiled, and reluctantly slung the giant stuffed monster over his shoulder. "And now, we're going to go on some rides."

"If I recall correctly you invited me for a nice relaxing vacation." He pointed out, stressing the word relaxing.

"What, you don't like rides either?"

"I never said that." He followed her down to the pier where she bought twenty dollars worth of tickets before marching up to the Himalaya. He saw the ride spinning around at a speed that was entirely too fast and then repeat itself backwards, and he stopped shaking his head.

"C'mon." She said, removing the giant toy from his shoulder and all but dragging him into a seat. Once the ride started however, he found himself not minding it all that much as centrifugal force pressed her against him. She was warm, and comforting to him, she seemed to fit against him, and when he moved his arm behind her, almost wrapped possessively around her shoulders to stop it from being pinned between them she hadn't minded in the least.

By the time they exhausted all the tickets, they had already ridden every ride at least once, much to his stomach's protest, and they were both ready to go back to the house and collapse. "You, me, tikki bar tonight?" She asked him and he groaned.

"Do you have an endless supply of energy?" He asked her. "In case you haven't noticed I'm an old man."

"Yeah right, that old excuse." she teased, laughing. She collapsed on the couch using the giant stuffed animal as a pillow. "Take a nap if you're that exhausted old man." He smiled and walked into the bedroom, flopping down onto the bed, falling asleep quickly.


	6. Dancing and Drinks

A/N Another chapter down. This fic's all written, just needs to be typed, so don't worry about this being an abandoned fic, cause it's all written just needs to make it from my notebook to the computer to music blared as they walked down the boardwalk to the bar. He groggily rubbed some sleep from his eyes, she had all but yanked him out of the comfortable bed. He smiled as he watched her dance her way in, and up to the bar. She ordered a beer and he ordered his usual scotch. "Do you ever drink anything else?" She questioned him. He shrugged.

"Occasionally bourbon."

"I mean not whiskey."

"Do you have a problem with whiskey?" He teased, taking a sip.

"Drink beer." She told him holding up her glass. "Cheers." He clinked the small tumbler against her bottle.

"Too many bad parties." He told her with a grin. "Besides, what's the point in drinking something unless a whole bottle of it can put you completely out?" She laughed.

"You should dance." She told him as she set down her drink next to him.

"Who else would watch your precious beer?"

"You really should." She said making her way to the dance floor.

"No, I should stay put." He called to her, the words lost in the din of the music and the crowd. He tapped the tumbler on the bar and the bartender came over to refill it.

"She's a looker." The bartender commented as both men watched her dance.

"Yeah." He admitted as he watched the small body move.

"You two been together long?" The bartender asked him, and he shook his head.

"Not together at all." He drained the scotch and the bartender refilled it again.

"You two look like it. Real comfortable around each other, y'know? You can bicker without stepping on each others toes." He smiled at the bartenders comment.

"We're just good friends." He told the old gruff man.

"Your choice or hers?" He almost choked on his scotch.

"What do you mean?'

"What I mean is I've seen couples on their honeymoons that don't look half as in love as you do-you're smitten by her, and she looks like she wouldn't turn you down." He shook his head.

"Is it that obvious?" He asked the bartender who nodded gravely, as if he was telling him he had only a few days to live.

"So obvious here's a double of liquid courage, on the house. Make a move" The bartender refilled the tumbler and walked off as she reappeared.

"Making buddies with the barkeep are you?" She teased as she picked her beer up again.

"Yeah." He commented into his scotch.

"So are you going to dance or not?" She asked him, swilling her beer.

"If the music slows down." He told her, watching the crowd, looking anywhere but at her. He took another gulp and as it burned down his throat he though t that the bartender was right, it was liquid courage, with each sip he felt more and more like actually going out on the dance floor and making a fool of himself for her.

"It's getting hot in here, wanna go outside?" She indicated the giant patio area that hung for out onto the beach, and he got up, laying down the money for two scotches and a double, despite what the bartender had told him. She leaned over the railing, watching the moon play on the waves, gently sipping her beer.

"You look upset." He told her, mimicking her pose over the railing.

"Just thinking." She shrugged.

"You actually do that? Here I was believing that you didn't know what the word meant." He teased her, and she smiled.

"It's rare." She lapsed back into silence. "I don't know what to think anymore." She admitted after a long pause of staring at the ocean. "I keep thinking I should love Woody, but I don't feel it. I had three guys ask me out in there and I turned all of them down because they weren't my type." He laughed.

"Your type?" He questioned, knowing that she had no set type, that she'd dated all types of guys. The surfer boy that had followed her from California was certainly different from Woody who was certainly different from some of the other boyfriends he had seen her with over the years.

"I don't know, I just wasn't attracted to them. Besides I'm here with you, and you're not exactly being a social butterfly, I don't want to exile you to the couch unless you've got someone else's bed to share." He smiled softly. It was almost a chance for him, as if she was sidestepping that she didn't want to date anyone while she was here with him. That he was the one she was with and that it didn't matter who asked her out, she was here with him.

"So would Woody be your type?" He asked, trying to elicit her feelings for the detective, trying to gage if she really cared for him, of she cared for the farm boy in the same way she cared for Nigel and Bug.

"Yes." She paused. "No." She paused again. "Yes and no. I like him, I really do, but he wants to be something, he wants a future. He wants a white picket fence, a house in suburbia, a happy wife with loving kids. I think I want that, but I keep thinking about it, and it's almost like a nightmare."

He grinned. He could never see her being a soccer mom, carting kids around in a minivan. No, she was a free spirit, her children would wind up being the crazy rebels just like her, try as Woody might to tame her, she was untameable. "I don't even know what I'm going to have for dinner," she continued, "Much less what I want twenty years from now. And we've been toying with each other, dancing around romance for how many years now? I know he likes me, or at least he did, I really hurt him when I turned down his ring, I don't know what to feel about him though."

He put a consoling arm around her. He put all thoughts of romance aside, right now what she needed was her best friend, nothing else. "I don't think I ever really loved him, he's the one I thought I could trust most, but he thinks to much about risk verse reward, he's always so much the methodical cop, he wants to be so much, and I don't want to hold him down." She drained the rest of her beer, and he noticed a stray tear trace its way down her cheek.

He gently wiped it away as he heard the music slowing down. He finished his scotch feeling the warm burn give him strength. "Lets go back inside." He suggested and she followed him in, his arm around her. She nestled against him as she fling her arms around his neck, and they swayed to the music. He caught the bartender's sly smile as they danced and he smiled sadly back over her shoulder.

"You know, I asked you first, not last, I never asked Nigel or Bug, or Lilly, I asked you because I knew if nothing else you're the easiest to talk to. You're my best friend, you know that?" She asked, lifting her head up from where it was resting against his shoulder.

"Yeah." he said, meeting her eyes. "Only your best friend would put up with all I have." He said and she grinned. He dipped his head ever so slightly down, and he felt someone shove into his back, and their lips met.

Even if it only lasted for an instant, it felt as if he had been zapped with lightning, ever hair on his body was on end. It was something that he had never felt before. The kiss was over before it even truly began, but it was more than enough to make him think. As the song ended, he caught the bartender's wink as he walked back from the porch area a tray of empty glasses in hand.


	7. Moonlight Swim

A/N-short chap, I know, but it's a transition to the next one which is a nice size...

Hey lay in bed staring at the ceiling, trying ti will him self to sleep. He rolled over yet again trying to find a position to ease him to sleep. "Can't sleep either, eh?" She called from the cot in the corner.

"Yeah." He commented, shifting again. "Can't get comfortable. Same over there?"

"No, can't get tired." She stretched. "You know what I feel like?"

"Trying to let me sleep?" He suggested and she laughed.

"No, a swim."

"Jordan, it's-" He rolled over and squinted at the angry red numbers on the alarm clock, "-one thirty in the morning." He heard her get up anyway.

"Where's your sense of adventure?" She asked walking into the bathroom. The bright light blinded him before she closed the door behind her, leaving him to sit up groggily. She came out minutes later in the same bikini she had worn previously. "Besides, it's a known fact that it's amazingly easy to sleep on the sand." She walked out and pulled two towels out of the linen closest. "You coming or what?" She called and he got up and followed her outside.

She had already made her way down to the water when he had sprawled the towel and sat on it. "You know I'm not going out there, even if you really do drown." He shouted at her and he could barely hear her laugh carry back to him. He leaned back, laying in the sand, head propped up on his hands as he watched her swim easily, first out, then back, then parallel to the shore. It didn't take long for him to drift off into sleep.

He didn't even notice when she emerged some time later from the water and gently dried off before laying next to him and gently wrapped her arms around him, holding him like a giant teddy bear.


	8. What If?

A/N-The Cryptkeeper Five are a real band from-you guessed it-New Jersey, and they're really good, I suggest them to anyone, but aside from that, enjoy this.

The sound of gently snoring woke him up and he turned to see her lying next to him. She had wrapped her arms around him and he didn't move, he didn't want to wake her. He was too busy enjoying the feeling of her pressed against him,. She looked so calm and peaceful sound asleep, compared to the usual tumultuous look that she ad when awake.

He brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face, tucking it gently behind her ear before planting a gentle kiss on her forehead, listening to the soothing sound of the waves. She stirred slightly before opening her eyes. He smiled at her as she came to consciousness. "Morning." He said as she smiled back.

"Mmm." She groaned contentedly as she stretched, pleasantly surprising him when her arm returned to it's position around his back. "I love the beach."

"This is a rare confession, but you were right." He admitted.

"About what?"

"It is easy to fall asleep on the beach." She grinned.

"It's not often I get to hear you tell me I was right."

"Don't get used to it." He told her with a false hint of malice.

"Oh, but it's something that would be so nice to get used to."

"Tough." He grinned and she laughed.

"You know, I've been thinking."

"So I've heard Someone get the Globe reporters down here." She smacked his back with the arm that was around his waist.

"I was trying to think of what'd I'd be if I wasn't an ME." He raised an eyebrow.

"And what'd you come up with?"

"Dead, from sheer exhaustion." she stared at the slowly arriving people, rather than at him.

"I doubt that." He told her halfheartedly, and she shook her head.

"You were there, I almost did die from sheer exhaustion. I thought I had what I wanted, but it turned out I didn't. Seems what I think I want is the thing that's the worst for me." She moved closer to him, seeking comfort. "What about you?" She asked, changing the subject. "What would you be if you weren't an ME?" He shrugged.

"I was originally a music major, but switched to get a deferment. I hated working on most people-trauma and surgery were the only other things I liked, trauma more than anything, cause you had to be on your toes, thinking three steps ahead of where you were. But if it wasn't for me switching majors my senior year I'd probably be the stereotypical butt of the joke."

"What joke?" She questioned.

"What do you call someone who hangs out with musicians?" She shrugged. "A drummer." She laughed.

"You know, I've never heard you play, you really should sometime. Just think, we can get Nigel, or Lilly, or Bug to play bass and we'd have our own little band. "

"What would we be, The Undertakers?" She grinned.

"If we get all three of them we could be the Cryptkeeper Five, like the band from that Misfit's tune Monster Mash." He laughed.

"Right, and our first album would be Love Songs from the Mourge."

"Well, we could do a great cover of I Used to Love Her." They were both laughing as they carried on.

"And the DA's office would have a fit if all of us left to go on tour."

"I can see the headlines now. 'Dead bodies pile up while Massachusetts's coroners take off on their US tour." There were tears in her eyes from laughing so hard, and they were drawing funny looks from those that walked by, but they didn't care. "I don't know what I'd do without you Gar," She told him as the laughs subsided, "You and your strange sense of humor can cheer me up whenever. I'd be lost without that." He grinned.

She didn't know how much her words really meant to him, how much he treasured them, the sound of her clear laugh when he knew that he was the one that made it show. She didn't know how much it meant for her to tell him that he was important to her, that he meant something to her. "I don't know about lost, but you would be wallowing in self pity, wondering what went wrong having a mid life crisis and age 30." She grinned.

"You're right about that age, you're overdue for yours." He shook his head.

"Are you implying that I'm old?" He teased her.

"No, just due."

"Well there are times I have been tempted to steal Nigel's bike, run halfway across the country and try to join some old rock band that's trying and failing to make a comeback." She laughed again.

He suddenly felt himself become aware of just how close they were to each other, of the soft scent of lavender and salt water coming off of her body, and he knew that he was staring at her lips. She was so close, he'd only have to dip his head down to kiss her, but as he started to, she suddenly pulled away. "Look, I'm going to go grab some groceries, there's nothing in that place, you want anything in particular?" She said standing up.

"Jordan-" He called after her retreating form.

"I'll be back later." She called, throwing her towel over her shoulder as she walked back. He knew she wanted to be alone, and took his time folding his towel before heading back. By the time he reached the house, her car was already gone.


	9. Don't Say A Prayer For Me Now

A/N, this chapters inspiration is entirely blamed on watching Animal House while writing it.

She came back after a good hour of being away, bags in hand, emblazoned with the local supermarket's logo. "Need a hand?' He asked, and she nodded.

'There's a few more bags in the car as well as a few drinks." He grabbed an armful of bags and one of the twelve packs she had bought.

"A few? Jordan, who needs-" He counted the cases, "-five twelve packs for two people?" He put the bags down in the kitchen.

"C'mon, I'll have you drinking Guinness in no time. Although I had to spend twenty minutes trying to find a liquor store. What kind of a state doesn't allow the sale of liquor in a grocery store?" He smirked as he carried in the last two twelve packs. They put three in the fridge along with some of the food, just enough to cover the rest of the week they were staying there.

He opened one of the cases of beer and pulled out a can before heading back to the couch where he had been quite comfortable before she returned. She slapped his feet off of the cocktail table to give her some room to get by, and once she was past, he resumed his the lounging posistion he had been in. "The Mets? I thought the Sox were playing today." She said looking at the score of the game on TV.

"They are, but they're not on TV down here." He remarked, handing her the remote. She absently flipped through all the channels, before returning to the game.

"There is nothing on TV. I hate daytime TV." He smiled and took a gulp from his beer. "What happened to only drinking things that a bottle of will put you on your ass?" She teased.

"When there is nothing else to drink, one makes do with what he has. I still prefer something that if I wanted to get drunk I wouldn't have to buy an entire twelve pack of."

"So it takes you a whole twelve pack to get drunk? Or a twelve pack to get REALLY drunk?"

"Define really drunk." She thought.

"Hold onto the floor so you don't fall off the world drunk."

"Sounds about right for a twelve pack." She laughed.

"Funny, I can't picture you that drunk. I've seen you tipsy, I've seen you half drunk, but I've never seen you down on the ground head on cold porcelain drunk."

"There's a reason for that." He told her, taking another sip.

"Really. What was it you said in the bar? Too many bad parties. Do tell." He shook his head.

"What can I say, I was a music major, and music majors are known for the best parties, if there's one thing a bunch of wanna be rock stars are good at, it's partying." He smiled.

"Wow, learn something new every day. Can't picture you involved in chugging contests." He shook his head as he remembered-however faded and fuzzy those memories may have been, his college days.

"I wasn't bad."

"Is that a challenge?" She questioned.

"No, it's not. I haven't done something like that since college."

"Neither have I." She countered. "Kinda miss it. Nothing better than a bunch of drunken idiots competing to see who can get more drunk. I was one of the best on campus, could out chug most of the guys." He shook his head, he did not want to be doing this.

"I'm not going to be involved in a chugging contest with you." He told her point blank and she pouted.

"What, afraid you're going to loose?"

"No."

"Then why not? It's not like anyone's going to see you, no one's here to leak the story of you in a chug fest to give you any more bad press, and I'm probably not going to remember enough to sell the story."

"What's in it for me, what's the wager?" He asked her, eying the label on the beer introspectively.

"Winner picks what the looser does." He thought. "You know you want to." she teased him, walking into the kitchen to retrieve one of the non-refrigerated twelve packs. She gave him six, and placed six before her. "First one done or whoever drinks the most wins." He thought about it for a long minute before extending his hand.

"I know I'm going to regret this in the morning, but you're on." She shook it, and cracked her first can, and he did the same.

"On your marks. Get set." She paused, and they both said "Go" at the same time.

He fought the liquid, trying to get his throat and mouth to do things they hadn't done in two decades, trying to get them to hold the most liquid possible and trying to get his gag reflex to disappear, allowing the liquid to go directly from his mouth to his stomach.

He allowed himself a glance sideways as he cracked the third can to see where she was, and found her to be in the exact same place. By that time his body had remembered what it was like, remembered how to get the most out of every gulp and he could tell that her body was reacting the exact same way. He groaned as he slammed the last can down on the table at the same time she did, and let out a long belch, laughing as she did the same. She glared.

"Screw being lady like, I just chugged six cans of beer." Her voice was slightly slurred.

"In the middle of the day, on an empty stomach." She looked at the clock on the DVD player, her eyes squinting to try to read the numbers that seemed to be fading in and out of view.

"It's after 2, it's past midday." She told him, leaning back against the couch.

"I think we tied."

"Ok, so we each pick what the other one does. You go first."

"Ladies first." He told her, attempting to think of something to tell her to do.

"No, all I can think of is stupid stuff that only frat boys would do, like getting a tattoo." He shook his head.

"No thanks, don't need another." An interested look crossed her face.

"Another? That means you've already got one. I didn't see it though, where is this mystery tattoo." He shrugged.

"A place no one looks." He told her simply.

"Where, your ass?" She laughed at her own humor.

"A little higher up."

"Show it." He shrugged and pulled down a corner of his pants and boxers to reveal a small tattoo just above his hip, and she burst out laughing again.

"What, you have something against it?"

"No, I just think it's kinda-cute-that you have the batman thing tattooed on you." He shook his head, but her words meant something to him, had she just called him cute? What was that phrase again? In Vino Veritas? Very true statement about the truth. "Your turn." She told him, and he thought about what to tell her to do.

"Why?"

"Why what?" She asked back, trying to figure out what the word meant.

"Why do you keep pulling away whenever we start getting close?" He asked her, and waited for the answer.


	10. In Vino, Veritas

A/N the title of this chap is a Latin phrase that means "In Wine, Truth" which is quite fitting for this chapter.

She was staring down at the table, at the array of beer cans on it, and he could almost see her stomach lurch as she tried to think while completely trashed. "You know how we kissed, sorta in the nightclub?" She asked him, and he nodded, the memory of it still made his hair stand on end. "There was something about it, something different, exotic, it made me want more, but I don't want to push things, I don't want things to be awkward, I don't want to lead you on to wind up telling you, oh, sorry, forget about you, I've got Woody." She leaned back and rested her head against his shoulder, and he gently stroked her hair. "You're too good a friend to me, I couldn't do that to you, besides, I don't deserve a guy like you, you don't need someone like me, I've got too many problems."

She seemed on the edge of breaking. She got up suddenly, and bent before him, kissing him gently on the lips, a soft, sweet taste, but she was out the door before he could process what happened. He watched her all but stagger away, down the street. He lept up as best he could and chased after her, breaking into a quick trot. "Jordan-" he called after her, feeling more sober now than he had before.

He caught up to her, and gently grasped her arm, trying to pull her close. "Jordan-" He started again, and she pulled her arm away.

"Just leave it, Garret, just leave me be, I'm not worth it." She stalked down the path towards the beach, walking towards the huge sprawling dunes where he had sat two nights before rather than getting a good nights rest.

"Jordan, quit being a mopey drunk." She smiled at the commanding tone in his voice as he refused to let her leave him behind, but the smile quickly faded.

"Garret, just don't bother." She said as she collapsed on a dune.

"Jordan, I'm not going to let you do this to yourself. Woody's going through a lot right now, don't let that get to you, don't let him get to you. You're letting the fact that he's feeling miserable about himself get to you." He sat down next to her, considerably more composed. The fact that he had a larger frame helped, the alchohol didn't affect him as badly. "What happened to Hurricane Jordan that would let nothing get to her?"

"We both know that's not true, I never was that person, I may have tried to be, may have acted like I didn't have a care in the world but we both know that I let everything get to me. I'm not Hurricane Jordan, and I never was."

He stared into her eyes, dark and deep meeting dark and deep. "You are, or you would be if you'd just stop doubting yourself." She got up and turned around, walking away. "Jordan," He called after her, an almost desperate tone in his voice. "Don't do something you're going to regret when you're sober." He shouted as she walked away, leaving him alone.

He sat there, staring out at the ocean for a long time, his thoughts a mess. Why had he asked her that? It was a question he had wanted to know the answer to desperately, but it was something that should have been asked sober, he had gotten far more than he had expected, he hadn't expected her to be blunt, he had expected her to sidestep the question like she always did. But then again, it was he who had thought of In Vino Veritas, he should have expected what he got.

He thought about what she had told him, that she didn't want to lead him on to wake up one morning and realize that it really was Woody she loved. He didn't want that either, but he'd rather have that than nothing at all, he'd rather have her for a little while before she turned away from him.

But she had a point about the awkwardness, but it was already there. He stared up at the sun, receding back slowly to the west, lengthing shadows ever so slowly. The people were starting to leave the beach, the lifeguards would be following shortly thereafter, leaving the beach deserted and quiet.

He began to regret agreeing to this, agreeing to going along with her to the beach, regretting being her shoulder to cry on. He had been content with that before, it had been more than enough for him, he had always thought their love to be platonic, the love of best friends, people who would die for each other and support each other through thick and thin, but over the past two days he had begun thinking about would could happen between them.

It had started after she turned down Woody with his ring, Charlie had only been a passing fling, another dark haired woman to fill a void within him. He laughed as he realized what all of his past girlfriends had been. All of them since Maggie were so similar, headstrong, dark haired, willing to do what it took, just like her. It wasn't a funny laugh, it was a laugh at how pathetic he had been.

The bartender had been right, he had been hopeless for her for so long, and he had told himself that he would never have her and thus contented himself with just her as a friend, but after he had seen her turn away woody, the one man he thought she truly loved, he felt something inside of him change, a part of him click back on that told him that she was perfect for him and having a week alone with her, with nothing but her, no work, no other people, without Woody, it just magnified his feelings.

It was a long time before he went back to the house and he found her sound asleep on the bed. He gently covered her with the quilt, tucking it around her before climbing into the cot and turning in for an early night, and fell into the easy sleep of the drunk.


	11. Save It For The Morning After

A/N, I know this is short, really short, but that's cause I never realized I never finished writing this chapter (I wrote this in two different notebooks) and that I only had the first paragraph of it done. So I tried to pad this out as much as possible but there is a limit to how much padding one can do. Thanks to all of you who are reading this (even those of you who don't review.) and especially the ones who do!

He woke up to light that was far too bright streaming through the windows. He got out of bed, fighting the feeling of his stomach rolling over on itself, and closed the blinds, the ritching sound almost too much for him. He heard her stir ever so slightly as she squinted awake. "Ugh." She moaned, laying a hand to her forehead.

"Join the club." He told her, rubbing his temples. She swung her feet off the bed and as she stood, he watched an awful green color wash over her. A minute later she was in the bathroom, forehead resting against the cool porcelain. He pulled her hair back for her as her body revolted against what she had done the day before, and he handed her a towel, receiving a grateful smile.

"Thanks." She told him as she stood, running the faucet and rinsing her mouth out.

"This is why I hate beer." He headed back for the bed, and rolled to the far side of it, pulling the covers back. She glared at him. "What, the bed's plenty big for two people and I feel so sick right now I wouldn't even dream of moving an inch." She thought for a moment, and weariness took it's hold, and she fell, collapsing into the bed, barely drawing the covers back around her before falling asleep.

He stayed up for just a little bit, trying to block out the light by pulling the blanket over his head, and trying to stop the throbbing against his skull. He hadn't felt this horrible in a long time, at least when he got halfway through a bottle of scotch he didn't have this horrible of a hangover, hard liquor never affected him that much.

After a while he fell asleep, a light slumber, something that he kept waking from due to the absolute hell that was going on in his skull, the agonizing throbbing. But he didn't want to get up, because getting up would require far too much effort, and he didn't think his body could handle it. So instead he fought to stay asleep.

Each time he awake he found himself drifting closer and closer to the center of the bed, along with her, and each time he woke, he rolled back to his side, trying to stay away, lest he wake up wrapped around her, it was another thing that would just make his headache worse than it already was.

Eventually he fell back into a deep slumber, managing to fight off his headache enough to go back into a dreamless sleep, something that he needed more than anything at the moment.


	12. Fear and Loathing

A/N-I Think this chapter's the best part of the book and one of the best things I've written, so I do hope y'all enjoy it.

He woke up some time later and found himself wrapped around her, holding her tightly, much the same way she had clung to him at the beach. He stayed like that for a long moment, not wanting to move. His head no longer felt as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to the inside of it, and the world felt stable beneath him, not like he was about to fall into a bottomless void.

He turned his head and peered through the blinds to find the sun to have risen well over the window, and a look at the clock confirmed that it was nearly noon. He rolled back toward his side of the bed, and in doing so, woke her up. "Sorry, tried to let you get some more sleep. Feeling better?" He asked her, and she nodded.

"Much." She said, stretching as she climbed out of bed, watching him do the same. "Now, what to do today?" She asked, almost rhetorically.

"How about stay inside?" He suggested, opening the blinds again.

"We did that yesterday. We're only here for a week!" she argued playfully, and walked into the main room, looking around, thinking. "Hmm, I did notice two surfboards in the closet, didn't I?" A mischievous glint was in her eyes.

"No." His tone suggested that there should be no room for discussion, but she pushed it.

"What? Surfing is fun. It was the best part of California!" She opened the closet containing the two boards.

"I don't swim in the ocean, which rules out surfing. You go all you want, I'll stay on the beach."

"Awe c'mon Garret, you'll never get over your fear unless you face it." He snorted.

"Coming from someone who ran off thanks to her fear of commitment?" She turned to face him, a spark of anger in her eyes.

"Fear of commitment?"

"You can't say you don't have one, if you didn't you'd be up in Boston right now, with Woody wearing that ring he gave you. I've seen you two dance around each other and once he actually showed that he cared and that he wanted something, you run, you turn him down. You're afraid of it-Woody, that surfer that followed you here from California that you kicked out, once he started getting to close, you got scared." She was inches from him, staring up into his eyes.

"If I recall correctly, you had a hand in getting rid of Tyler."

"But it wasn't my idea, you're the one that was freaking out over how he was getting too close." She glared at him, her eyes steely and cold.

"You don't have much room to talk, when was your last date? The chick who everyone thought was killing off her boyfriends. You haven't seen anyone for more than a first date since Renee, and you haven't dated anyone seriously, well, not since Maggie. You've had your chances, but you haven't taken them. So don't go lecturing me about being afraid of commitment."

"Have you ever considered that maybe I didn't take those chances for a reason other than being afraid? I'm not afraid of commitment, I was married for sixteen years, I think I know what commitment is." He was glaring back at her, both their eyes cold and distant, at the same time, they were both displaying the raw emotion that they were feeling.

"Then what's your excuse? What's your reason, if you're not afraid, why don't you leap on the chance to be happy?"

"Why don't you?" He countered, trying to fling the question back at her to avoid answering it.

"You tell me first, you're the one that brought this up."

"You're afraid, aren't you? You're afraid of things getting out of hand, you're afraid of loosing your independence, of falling in love and giving your heart up to someone just to loose them." The words stung, he could tell they did, they bit right down into her soul, he knew he was right and so did she. "You're afraid of them leaving you like your mother did, you're afraid of them hurting you so you take the preemptive strike and hurt them first, you run so they can't." He could see the tears welling up in her eyes, but he couldn't control himself, he had started it.

"No." She said quietly, but he ignored.

"You think everyone's going to run out on you, you think you're going to be abandoned. I've got news for you Jordan, the only person who's your mother is dead, the only one to have abandoned you is dead, and you can't change that." The slap echoed through the room, and he felt guilty about the way he pushed it. "I'm not afraid. I fell in love with someone who's too self absorbed in their own problems and their own fears to let anyone into her heart, much less those who love her."

He turned and walked out the door, rubbing the spot on his cheek where he knew a five fingered red mark lay splayed across, a sign, a reminder of what he had just said, and as he walked away he heard a small sob come as she collapsed on the couch. Right now, what he needed more than anything, was a stiff drink.


	13. Follow Your Heart

He sensed her before he saw her. He was sitting on the edge of an old dock that stuck out over a tide pool, skipping stones that someone had left there, old weights from crab traps. He didn't look over when she sat down next to him, trying to ignore her for as long as possible. "Garret-" she started, and he sat there, still watching the stones skip through the waves. She put a can of beer down next to him, something else he ignored. "Garret-" she tried again, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder which he shrugged off.

"Can't get five minutes of peace on a relaxing vacation." He said, and she laughed, not a happy laugh, but a pathetic laugh.

"Garret, please."

"Please what?" He asked, and noticed another stone skip out as she joined him in his mindless occupation.

"Don't do this to me. If anything I'm the one that should be pissed off at you. I've got too much going on already, my life's enough of a wreck. I don't need my best friend going off on me on top of everything else." She leaned against him, her head in his lap. The sun was starting to set, he was surprised how long he'd been out, and he wondered how long she took to look for him.

He gently stroked her hair, watching the blue sky slowly fade to pink and amber. "This is something that I could get used to." He said after a while of just sitting there, both of them reconciled even though no one had apologized, it was something that didn't need to be said.

She looked up at him, a sad look in her eyes. "I told you Garret, I don't want to use you, to lead you on only to wake up the next morning and realize that I do love Woody, I don't want to tear myself in more directions than I'm already being torn. I need to figure out what I want. I'm too busy being in limbo." She felt a strong finger place itself against her lips, silence her.

"What's your heart telling you?" He asked.

"My heart's telling me to go on and take a risk, my brain's telling me to go with Woody, and my body's telling me to jump the first person I see." She sat up and looked into his eyes.

"Just this once, and remember this, because I'm never going to tell you it again, forget what you're brain is telling you and go with your instinct, go with what your heart and body are telling you." She paused for a minute, trying to think, before leaning her head in, allowing their lips to meet.

It felt like a thousand megawatt charge ran through his body. Every hair on his body was standing on end. They pulled back after a long second, and he could see it on her face that she felt it too, that there was an almost stunned, shocked look. She leaned forward again, recapturing his mouth with hers, pushing back on him, leaning him against the hard wood of the dock.

Her weight felt comfortable against him, and they seemed to fit. He trailed one hand up her side, and felt her shift in response, fighting the ticklish touch, and felt a sharp stabbing pain in his side. "Ow." He moaned sitting up to find a nail sticking up out of the dock, jabbing into him. She giggled. "Let's continue this someplace where we're less likely to get injured by sharp objects." He suggested, and she paused for the briefest moment as he helped her up, but one look in her eyes and she followed him.

He held her hand for the entire time, the picture of a happy couple, every now and then catching a kiss to assure each other that this was a good idea. They had barely walked in and closed the door behind them when they were locked in a passionate kiss, just as passionate as the one on the dock, and he felt soft hands trying to work his clothes off, starting with the shirt. He had barely pulled it over his head than he found himself in the bedroom with her, a long fingernail tracing the path of tawny hair the extended from the top of his sternum straight down to the waistband of his pants. She pushed him gently against the mattress and he put all coherent thought out of his mind.

A/N-So I'm putting these here to not give away anything at the start-I had to keep this PG-13 largely because if I tried to write it R, I would have failed miserably and crossed it into the NC-17 range anyway. Even though The Harvest did almost cross into there (there's only a few inches of Miguel left up to the imagination in that movie). Did y'all honestly think they wouldn't wind up together in this?


	14. Breakfast in Bed

A/N Just a little bit of fluff because everyone needs a little bit of fluff. Two chapters left, then I've got a Garret/OC in the works and more of Never Forget which I really need to finish, if you like Harry Potter I suggest checking that one out, and probably a few more one shots on their way as well. And am I the only one that thinks it's funny that the first word that comes up on spell checker for "Cavanaugh" is "Naughtier" ?

* * *

He woke up feeling better than he had in years, he felt years younger and all the stress that had slowly been piling up had evaporated off of him. He felt her nestled against him, snoring ever so gently. His stomach gave a low rumble, reminding him he hadn't eaten in over a day, between the beer and the hangover he'd had no appetite, but now it came back for him.

He gently extricated himself from around her, careful not to wake her and slid into the kitchen, trying to be as silent as possible as he put together what she had bought into something resembling a good hearty breakfast. While his meager culinary skills were being put to the test he searched for something to put the food on, finding a small tray after a good ten minutes of searching and a burning smell reminding him that the food was still cooking.

Once he got everything back under his control, he put the bacon eggs and toast all on two plates and grabbed the carton of milk and two cups and carried the tray back into the bedroom. She stirred awake as he walked in, and she eyed his naked body, something she hadn't gotten a good look at the night before. "mm, breakfast in bed. You know, you are just full of surprises." She said, grabbing the tray so that he could sit back in the bed.

They ate quietly and contemplatively, the silence was unnerving to him, he found himself in the fear of her telling him the one thing she didn't want to, the reason that she hadn't wanted to do this in the first place, but she never did, she never said anything until after they had both finished and the tray had made it's way onto the floor, neither of them in the mood to put it in the sink. She leaned back against him, and he wrapped his arms comfortingly around her.

She tilted her head against him, staring up at him, and he could see the sad, hurt look in her eyes, and she dropped her head as a stray tear made it's way down her face. He gently wiped it away. "Don't cry." He soothed.

"I still don't know what I want, I thought maybe I'd wake up this morning knowing what I wanted, and now there's this. It was amazing, but I don't want to risk loosing you over a stupid lover's spat, I don't want to loose your friendship." He smiled, rocking back and forth gently.

"I'll always be your friend, no matter what happens between us, that's something that you can't get rid of." She looked up at him.

"No matter what?"

"No matter what." He told her, and she grinned. He bent his head forward to seal the promise with a kiss, a tender one, compared to the passionate ones shared the night before. A loving kiss, one that showed his affection not his need.

"If that's the case, let's make the most of the time I've packed the little voice in my head on vacation from the vacation." she pushed him back against the pillows and he grinned wolfishly at her, capturing her mouth with a kiss that was far more passionate than the previous one. She broke it off with a mischievous glint in her eye. "What was it you said about a tattoo with my name on it?"

"I believe it was one was enough." He replied, trying to kiss her again, but she kept evading him.

"And while that one is sexy," She began, planting a gently kiss to the small black mark on his hip "I think one with my name would be even sexier." Her lips gently traced a sideways path, stopping their teasing path far too soon for his liking.

"What exactly would this tattoo say?" He asked, willing to do anything to get her to continue her ministrations.

"Well, Jordan of course." He groaned as again she teased, this time kissing her way down the line of soft hair that extended down his chest. "Perhaps I heart Jordan? Or maybe Property of Jordan Cavanaugh?" She asked playfully, always missing the one spot he wanted her the most.

"Anything." He begged as she finally hit the spot and his eyes rolled back in his head.

"I'm going to hold you to that, you know that, right?" She told him, knowing full well that she had him under her control.

"You're getting one too if that's the case." He told her as he relaxed, her curling around him. She rested her head against his chest, listening to the soothing sounds of his slowing heartbeat. He felt the words he wanted to say on his lips, but they wouldn't come out. Instead he just held her close, one arm wrapped possessively around her, content to have her close.

"So when do you want to get that tattoo? There's plenty of places up and down the boardwalk." She traced lazy patterns through the pale brown hair that stretched from arm to arm across his chest.

"Staying in sounds like a much better idea." He told her, kissing her again.

"Being a coward, are we?" She teased him, and he smiled.

"If you recall, calling me a coward got us into this bed, if it makes us stay in it go ahead and keep saying it, I won't deny it." She laughed and gave him a playful smack on his stomach.

"You can stay in it all you want, but I'm going to leave." She got up and walked towards the bathroom, and he leaned back, enjoying the view. "I'm going to take a shower, care to join me?" He didn't have to be asked twice to follow her up and into the bathroom.


	15. You Did What?

A/N a somewhat funny chapter of something I can totally see Jordan doing...it's been a long time since I got a henna tattoo as well, so forgive me if I screwed up the after care instructions. One chapter left, and that's it. Aside from a one shot that I have planned as a semi-epilogue that doesn't feature Garret.

* * *

They emerged sometime later, drying each other off before getting dressed. "Right, so lets stop by one of those boardwalk places and get something cold to drink." She suggested, and he nodded in agreement. They walked out of the bungalow arms around each other, picture of the loving couple. The boardwalk seemed more subdued than it had been the other day, and he didn't know if it was from the faint haze the clouded his mind, the feeling of finally getting what he never thought he'd have, or just from spending a few days there and adjusting. "About that tattoo-" She suggested, pointing to a little shop nestled among the rest.

"You weren't serious, were you?" He asked, shocked as she lead him in.

"It's only henna, it'll wash away in a few weeks" She told him, dragging him inside and sitting him in a chair. "See, there's even one that says Property Of..." She pointed out the one in the book to him, and he shook his head.

"Jordan-" She grinned at him mischievously.

"You told me you'd get it, you said you'd do anything." He shook his head.

"Fine, but you're paying." She grinned.

"Then I pick." She flipped through the book, and finally settled on something and whispered it into the artist's ear and he felt rather unnerved at the way the artist laughed at what she said.

"And you said you'd get one too." She thought about it.

"I did, didn't I." She flipped through the book before settling on one, and the other artist waiting, nodded.

"Where though?" He asked her and she gave that a bit of thought as well.

"A match to your other one." She gave his other hip a smack. "Right there." He nodded, and pulled the side of his pants down, thankful he was wearing a pair of drawstring pants and not ones with a fitted waist. She pulled down the corner of her shorts as well, exposing the same spot of flesh.

"Now no peeking." she ordered, keeping a close eye on him, and he stared out, watching the people on the boardwalk walk by, trying to resist laughing as the artist tickled him as the tattoo was brushed on. Before he knew it, it was done and the artist was giving him the aftercare instructions.

"It's one T on that." He heard her say, and he smiled at that, and she looked over, catching his little grin.

"What, you think I'm going to wear something that's misspelled for four weeks?"

"No water on it for twenty four hours, and don't pick at it, the extra ink will fall off in about six hours, leaving you with just your tattoo, to keep it longer rub baby oil on it twice a day, otherwise it'll fade after four to six weeks." He nodded, and watched as she paid for both of them.

"Now can I look?" He asked and she grinned. He looked down at what she had chosen and nearly chased her out of the place.

"Relax, it'll fade, it's not permanent." She said as he chased her halfway down the boardwalk and she collapsed, laughing.

"Did you have to get "Jordan's Bitch" engraved on me?" He said, the anger in his voice betrayed by the light in his eyes.

"What? It's true you know. It could be worse. I could have made you get a permanent one, or it could be someplace visible." He gave her that much, he'd have a hard time explaining it away if someone were to see it.

"At least we're equal with them." He said, and she just smirked.

"Don't tell me you got something different." She just kept on grinning. "Jordan-"

"I plead the fifth." She said, following him down the boardwalk.

"Jordan, what'd you get?" She shook her head.

"I'm not going to spoil that for you, you'll just have to find out yourself." She told him, walking towards the bar.

"Then I'll find out right now." He said, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her close while he revealed what she got and blanched.

"What, it's just a henna tattoo." She said, swatting him playfully.

"I'm going to kill you." He told her. "You couldn't get something else playful and flirty, no, you had to get that."

"You must admit I've got the upper hand in this one Gar, besides, it's only a bit of fun."

"Proud owner of one Garret Macy is pushing the limits."

"Don't tell me you don't think it's sexy." She had him there. And it was something that he should have expected her to do, pull a fast one on him and then rub it in with her own.

"You owe me big time, and you can start with drinks." He told her, wrapping his arm back around her as they reached the tikki bar, and they ordered their standard drinks.

"I'll be right back." She said, excusing herself as the bartender filled their orders.

"So you finally got her, eh?" The bartender asked as he poured out the scotch.

"More like she got me." The bartender gave a hearty laugh.

"The hard part's keeping them, although if she caught you, you might have it easier than most." He toasted the bartender as she came back.

"What, are you two old college buddies or something?" She said as she watched the two men talk.

"Just kindred spirits." The bartender told her before walking off, setting a bottle of Guinness in front of her.

"Now this time you're going to dance right?" She all but begged him. He took a long sip.

"Once the music slows." And she grinned as the music slowed on cue, as if the DJ heard their conversation. He reluctantly let her lead him to the dance floor, and this time, as the song ended, it didn't take someone knocking into them for their lips to meet in an electrifying kiss.


	16. We'll Always Have the Beach

A/N So I again took artistic license, point pleasant is north of the spot in NJ where you do wind up going south to go north (because two towns refused to have 95 go through them they built the road around the town resulting in going south to go north) This is the last chapter as well, I enjoyed writing it, hope you enjoyed reading it, I do have a one shot post this though that I'll write tomorrow. And yes, Casablanca is my favorite movie, it's why I quote from it all the time, hence the title of this fic.

"I think you're going the wrong way." He pointed out as they passed a sign for 95 south to stay in the lane they were in.

"I was just going north a minute ago." She responded looking at each of the signs that they passed. No, there was no doubt about it, they were heading south, although she knew that she had been going north and hadn't pulled off of the highway.

"Don't you have a map?" He asked, and she shook her head.

"We got down here just fine, didn't we?" She asked him, and he shrugged. "Look, there's a gas station, we'll ask them." She turned the SUV off into the small stop and while she was refilling the tank asked them which way to go.

"You're going just fine." The attendant replied.

"But that says south, we want to go north. 95 north just disappeared." The husky man gave a deep long laugh.

"You're not in Boston anymore. Round here, directions don't quite make sense but if you think you're going the right way you are." The tank filled and she paid, just as confused as she was before.

"Let's just keep going, if we hit Delaware, we know we went wrong." She said, pulling back onto the highway.

"Wake me when we're in Boston." He said, leaning his head against the window.

"Excuse me, Mr. I-Want-To-Stay-In-Bed-All-Week? You want to sleep?" She teased.

"We didn't do much sleeping in that bed." She grinned as he unconsciously rubbed the spot on his hip where the henna tattoo sat.

"Told you so." She proclaimed as she saw a sign for Hoboken. "We passed that on the way down, we're going the right way." He shrugged and tried to drift back off to sleep, the blasting radio making that more difficult than it should have been.

They were already closing in on the Connecticut border when the phone rang, startling him out of his deep sleep. She answered it, trying to hold it to her head with the hand closest to him to stop any peeking state troopers from noticing it. "Jordan." She murmured quietly, thinking he was still asleep. "Ok Lilly, I'll be there in a few hours, I'm in Connecticut now." She flipped the phone shut and he stirred.

"A friend?" She nodded.

"Lilly." She told him.

"How are they holding up without either of us?"

"Apparently not so bad." She paused and he could tell that there was something more that she wanted to say, and he stared at her expectantly. "Woody wants to see me." The words almost ran together and they were spoken so quietly he could barely hear them.

"Oh." There was a pregnant pause in the conversation, both of them thinking about what it meant.

"Jordan-" He started at the same time she said his name. They both smiled at each other, both of them backing off waiting for the other to speak.

"You're still my best friend, no mater what, right?" She asked him, and he nodded.

"No matter what." He told her.

"Pinky swear?" She asked, holding out her hand, and he grinned, their little fingers locking together. "Garret, I just want to tell you now, in advance, I'm sorry for anything I'm going to put you through."

"You already complained about not wanting to lead me on." He reminded her and she nodded.

"I just need to get my heart, my mind, and my body to all agree on something, anything." She sounded almost sad at her confession.

"Take your time." He soothed and half meant his words. He knew what he wanted for purely selfish reasons. He could be what she wanted, he could be the calm to her storm, but he was happy only having her for a short bit of time, and having her as a friend rather than not having her at all. But if he had her, he wanted all of her, he wanted her whole heart, not her with her heart half loving someone else wondering what if.

"So back to reality." She said as they crossed the state border back into Massachusetts, back into familiar streets.

"Back to reality." He repeated, not wanting it to end. A stray tear made it's way down her cheek and he gently wiped it away. "Don't cry. Just relax." He kissed her as they pulled up to his house.

"Garret-" She started, and he paused outside of her car window on his way to collect his bag. "Thank you."

"For what?" He asked collecting the piece of luggage.

"I was going numb from everything, this week I felt something, I hadn't felt anything since Slokum took over and Woody got shot." He cupped her face gently with one hand, and kissed her one last time, wrapping a hand in her hair.

"We'll always have the beach, at least." He told her, as he walked towards his door.

"Here's looking at you kid." She mocked as he walked inside, watching her as she drove away with only a wave.

"Yeah, we'll always have the beach." He repeated, pouring himself a tumbler of scotch and sitting back in his recliner.


End file.
